


Crux. Noun/Verb. Latin. An Instrument of Torture, The act of torture.

by Doc_Skipjack585



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Blood, Depression, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:54:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26254489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doc_Skipjack585/pseuds/Doc_Skipjack585
Summary: Day 1: Crux. FFXIV 30-day Writing Challenge.Al'eysa keeps many secrets from her cohorts. Tonight, you get to witness the worst of them.
Kudos: 1





	Crux. Noun/Verb. Latin. An Instrument of Torture, The act of torture.

**Author's Note:**

> My entry for the first prompt of the FFXIV 30-day Writing Challenge! I was actually quite pleased with how it came out. It's very short, but is still an important part of my character's development and, well, her character. I'm still getting used to using ao3 -- this is my first post and only the 3rd or 4th time I've used the website -- but I feel like I'll be using it a lot more later on!

The meaty _crunch_ of Al’eysa’s flail bashing into her shoulders and back resounded in the quite, isolated room, was immediately followed by the splatter of blood and flesh onto the floor. _All in the name of further communion with the Abyss,_ she told herself. Even if it was a lie, she continued with this violent, debasing rite at the end of every week for months. Her self-imposed crux – torture, really – was a brutal coping mechanism. She felt empty since her heart of hearts disappeared from the face of the earth. She grew cold, distant from others. Even those in her company, who enjoyed her as both a friend and confidante, didn’t know. As she lost more and more hope, she also began to falter in her tasks. A tang of hesitation during fights, a hint of distraction during exercise and mining. These, naturally, led to more scars. Which brought her to a conclusion; She felt most when she was in pain. It was becoming a tether for her, given her the substance of feeling when she was all but lost now. Another crunch and she gasped in pain. It was almost too much for her, as she brought the flail forward to ready another swing. Dripping with blood. Tiny strips of flesh clung to it’s spikes. A smile spread across Al’eysa’s face as she felt the dizziness begin to set in from the blood loss. She had too many dedications and promises to uphold to take her own life, but this? This was _just. Fine._ Another swing and yet another crunch as she grit her teeth. Falling forward from her knees onto her hands, she began to heave. _The Pain,_ she thought, _It’s...I-It’s for the Abyss. I need to get closer...t-to fight better._ Another lie, of course. She withstood the pain of her crux so far but – She swung her arm back once again and the crunch turned into a sharp splatter instead. She yelped in agony, collapsing. Her upper back and shoulders had been torn to ribbons. Again. The – ironically enough – crux of her crux, instrument to her torture, fell from her hand and rolled away from her bloody body. She cried and grit her teeth, swore up and down in ways that’d make the most salty of Maelstrom Sailors blush, but never once thought of stopping. _A...Atonement!,_ She lied to herself yet again, _Atonement for...not being strong enough…_  
…She awoke the following morning in a stupor. The previous night’s exertions clearly took their toll more than usual and her back hadn’t healed completely. It was crusted over with dried blood, sure, but the clotting still had a few places to take place at and many of the self-inflicted wounds were still bleeding. Her flail lay nearby, blood-crusted with strips of her dark-olive flesh still hanging from it. Thus, was her Crux. And her Crux. The Tool, and the torture.


End file.
